


The Affair

by Bexinthecity247



Category: Bodyguard (TV 2018)
Genre: AU, David and Julia have an affair, F/M, Julia is not home secretary, Morally bankrupt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-12-15
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2019-09-19 16:44:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 16,397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17005332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bexinthecity247/pseuds/Bexinthecity247
Summary: “Here, let me,” a new voice said just as she was telling Roger to leap off a carpark roof. She cut the call and followed the arm that stretched past her to press the button, right up to the bluest eyes she’d ever seen.“Err, thank you,” she said, as she slipped her phone back into the open bag.--------David and Julia meet under different circumstances, whilst Julia is still married to Roger and they embark on a dangerous love affair.





	1. First Introductions

**Author's Note:**

> So I feel a bit like I'm flooding the fandom faster than Julia is flooding when she looks at David but ... this has been something I've wanted to write for so long and the idea was developed with my GC buddies.

“No, you fucking promised Roger!” Julia hissed into her iPhone, trying to juggle her coat, and two handbags that carried her more important cases, and the phone call to her useless husband as she tried to press the button on the elevator. 

“Here, let me,” a new voice said just as she was telling Roger to leap off a carpark roof. She cut the call and followed the arm that stretched past her to press the button, right up to the bluest eyes she’d ever seen. 

“Err, thank you,” she said, as she slipped her phone back into the open bag. 

“No problem,” he said, thrusting his hands into his pockets. The accent was certainly one she wasn’t accustomed to hearing in the centre of London. He wasn’t one of her clients, she hadn’t seen him around before but her leopard like eyes roamed over his profile. He was dressed in a relatively decent suit, no tie however. His face was chiseled, handsome even, a distinguished jawline running the length of his clean-shaven face.

Annoyingly he didn’t seem to pay her any mind and the lift doors dinged and slid open. She stepped in before him without allowing the stranger a chance to move in before her. She went to the back, pressing the ‘G’ button on the panel and watched him intently as he moved in, turning to look at the panel. 

“Ground?” she said just to have something to say, to test her voice. His blue eyes pierced hers.

“Aye,” he only said and moved to stand against the back wall. 

Her phone trilled from her bag and she tensed, ignoring it, fully aware of the caller. It rang off and she relaxed her shoulders, counting down the numbers as the lift descended through the floors. She raked a hand over her hair and reshuffled her bags which were weighing heavily in her hand. The phone trilled again, and she rolled her eyes. She felt the stranger’s eyes on her, compelling her to answer it and to kill the irritating noise. 

“What now?” she said quietly, turning away from the prying eyes of her new Scottish acquaintance. She sighed, her level of irritation rising as she tried to keep her voice level. “No, you know what, go out with your friends, and you can sleep at one of their houses because quite frankly, Roger, you can go fuck yourself because you won’t be fucking me!” 

She huffed as she cut the call and stuffed the phone into the bottom of her bag, her eyes catching the man’s with just the right amount of muted irritation. He, however had what she was sure a level of embarrassment, his lips pursed in a tight line as he bounced on his heels, clearly desperate to get away from her and whatever drama she was involved in.

The doors opened and contrary to her thoughts, he let her leave first. She swept past him without another thought and stormed her way through the lobby of  _Montague-Baranski-Pembleton and Partners_ , unaware if he was following the sounds of her heels clicking on the marble. 

“Goodnight Ms Montague,” the guard looked up from the front desk and offered her a small smile, just as he did every night when she left but tonight, she was in no mood for idle conversation.

“Goodnight, Stanley,” she only said and breezed past him, into the stark autumn air of Covent Garden. 

Only then did she notice it was pouring with rain and she took a step back towards the lobby. 

“Great,” she murmured, looking up and down the street for a cab. 

When one didn’t materialise she fumbled with her bags to get her phone out, juggling with her possessions as she tried to move a bag from hand to the other. The phone slipped from her grasp, landing on the ground with an audible smash and she stared down at it with an irritated sigh and she fought the urge to start crying or screaming.

“Fuck,” she growled, bending to put her bags on the floor and retrieve the smashed phone.

“Do you need a hand?” that voice again. He was swooping in, bending effortless to swipe up her phone and hand it to her. 

“Thank you,” she said quietly as he handed it back to her and was about to take a step out into the rain, his car keys jangling in his palm, when he stopped. His glance roamed over her and then down the street.

“Do you need a lift, ma’am?” he said, holding his arm out in the vague direction of his car. She looked sharply at him, her mouth opened to politely decline but then she looked up the road, there were no cabs, it was pissing with rain, and she couldn’t bear the underground. She bit her lip.

“I-I don’t even know your name,” she said, not unkindly. He gave a half smile.

“David,” he said, his face and eyes soft as he extended his free hand to her. She held up her full hands with a raised eyebrow and his hand fell with an awkward laugh. “Right.”

“Julia,” she said, not quite smiling. 

“Okay then, so, Julia, can I give you a lift home?” he said, raising his eyebrows.

She considered her options. “If it’s not too much trouble,” she finally said.

“Not at all,” he said in an accent she was quickly coming to very much appreciate. “Can I give you a hand with those?” 

He nodded her head to her bags, and she followed his glance down before offering a warm smile. When he reciprocated, wrinkles appeared around his blue eyes and she took a deep breath in. He was so unbelievably attractive that her breath quickened as his fingers brushed hers when she offered the bag of files to him. She was fucking married, she had to remind herself. 

“I’m parked just over here,” he said, pointing to a non-descript alley and she wondered, not for the first time if she was about to murdered. 

She watched him pull his suit jacket up over his head, her bag tucked neatly underneath to prevent it getting wet and she did the same with her own coat, trotting after him as he led her to a black Nissan parked under a streetlight. When it flashed to unlock, she pulled open the passenger door and watched as he slid in next to her. With the rain pattering on the metal body, she almost couldn’t hear herself think, but she could hear her breath.  _I’m married._ It didn’t matter that her husband was an arrogant, chauvinistic pig of a man who would rather spend time with his golfing friends than his own wife on her fucking birthday, she seethed. Her new companion was looking at her expectantly and she snapped to.

“Where do you live, Julia?” he said with mild amusement. Why did he have to keep saying her name? Why did she love the way it sounded, bracketed by his Scottish lilt? 

“Belgravia, Eaton Place,” she said, trying to ignore the way his eyes widened a little at her obvious wealth. 

“I’m not sure exactly where that is, you’ll have to direct me from the Hyde Park,” he said, revving the car into life and she swallowed. The journey would take twenty-minutes tops and she almost wished it would never end. 

She leaned up, pulling the seatbelt around her and desperately tried to concentrate on the road, and certainly not the faint smell of his cologne drifting around her head. She twisted her wedding ring around her finger, urging her moral compass to reset. It wasn’t working.

“Can I be really bold and ask you something?” David said, taking his eyes off the road momentarily to look at her. Her heart thudded.

“Sure,” she said, though she was afraid of what he’d ask.

“Who’s Roger and why has he got to go and fuck himself?” he said, words laced with mild amusement.

She looked down at her hands, a humourless laugh escaping.

“Hmm, Roger is my husband, and he can go fuck himself because he chose my birthday to go and stay with some feckless friends of his university days.” She didn’t realise how bitter she sounded until her eyes rose, and his jaw was tight.

“That’s pretty shitty,” he said. “But erm... happy birthday.”

“Thanks,” she sighed. Forty-two and she had a failing marriage, no children and no friends to celebrate with. The only thing going right in her life was her dazzling career. She paused. “My turn.”

He laughed. “Should have known, you’re a solicitor?”

“Barrister,” she said as the car looped past Buckingham palace. “What were you doing at my office?”

“I was meeting with my divorce lawyer,” he said it so casually that she actually felt guilty for asking. He must have sensed her reservedness because he added, “the soon to be ex-Mrs Budd hired lawyers and the such, so I thought it best I do the same. I don’t want to lose custody of my kids.”

“Understandable,” she said quietly. Was she secretly pleased with this development of a crumbling marriage?

“Are you a divorce barrister too?” he said, genuine curiosity burning through him.

“I deal with Human Rights,” she said, unashamedly. “And criminal justice.”

He raised an eyebrow. It was unusual for him to be in the company of such sophisticated people, especially one as beautiful as her.

“What do you do?” she said. How had she had a more inspiring conversation with a perfect stranger she’d met not half an hour ago, than she had had with her husband in the past two years?! The revelation was a little startling.

“I’m a police officer,” he said, pulling around Wellington Arch. She made a hum that was half interest and half approval. “You’ll need to direct me from here.”

“It’s a left, here and then straight down, turn right, and it’s the third one on the right,” she said, disheartened that their encounter was within minutes of ending. He pulled his car to a stop in front of her house and looked up at the mansion, blowing out a breath.

“It’s not all mine,” she said, feeling an absurd need to justify herself.

“I wasn’t judging,” he said, quickly and she followed his eyes to the dark flats with a sigh. 

“Well … thank you, eternally for the lift. I’m in your debt,” she said with a small smile and his eyes sparkled back at her. He turned in his seat to face her and she resisted the urge to do the same, covering the movement by undoing her seatbelt.

“Does that mean if I need a criminal barrister, you’ll work pro bono?” he grinned, and she laughed. It felt like the first she’d laughed in ages.

“The debt isn’t that high, I’m afraid,” as she said it, she realised how it sounded but his faced was curved in mirth.

“How about a coffee instead then?” he said, mouth curving into a cheeky grin. She looked at her lap, a profound sadness falling over her.

“I’m married...” she told him, resurrecting the barrier between them.

He’d never know how much she’d almost said yes but she gathered her bag and went to open the car door.

“Don’t forget this,” he said, grabbing her other bag from the back seat where he’d put it and she hesitated, biting her lip. 

His face was so open and kind, and he was so fucking hot that it physically hurt her to look at him. She let go of her bag and leaned in, pressing her mouth against his. 


	2. Dangerous Liasons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows immediately after chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am incredibly grateful for all the reviews! Thank you so much :)

He seemed too stunned to do anything at first and she started to pull away, concerned she may have been too forward but then his hand reached out and cupped her cheek, stroking her hair as he moved his mouth against hers. She couldn’t breathe; felt like he was consuming her entirely and whilst it wasn’t unpleasant, it ignited a fire in her stomach.

She pulled away, their faces mere milimetres apart, his hand dropping to rest against her neck.

“Do you want to come in?” she said, almost surprised by her boldness. He drew back a little.

“Your husband-” he started to say, and she turned away, irritation crossing her face like a wildfire and his hand fell from her neck. He had already messed up whatever this was, before it had even started. 

She turned to leave the car and he could already see her walking away from him forever. The thought was unfathomable. He reached out and grabbed her arm.

“Wait,” he said, waiting until she turned her head to face him before he leaned in, pressing his lips against hers, sucking on her lower lip. “I don’t normally do this.”

“Neither do I,” she murmured when he pulled away. He was touching her face and she wanted to draw him into her as much as humanly possible.

“God you’re so beautiful,” he said, the words tumbling out before he could stop. He misread her expression as repulsion. “Sorry, that’s a bit forward.”

She hadn’t been called beautiful in so long, at least not with the utter desire that he looked at her with. Roger called her his ‘beauty’ when they were out in public;  _“there’s my little beauty”._ But it was always said with condescension. There was none here.

“It’s okay,” she said and then she was opening the car door, pulling her bags with her. 

He reached behind and grabbed the discarded bag of files and piled out behind her. He trotted up the steps after her, coming to stand at her back as she slid the key in the lock. He kissed her neck, pressing himself into her back. She let out a breathy moan as the key finally found its target and she pushed open the door. For a second, she didn’t even care if her neighbours saw her in the arms of another man; if they lived with Roger, they’d see themselves in a similar position. 

As soon as she opened the flat door, his eyes were assaulted by a myriad of rich people’s things; paintings that cost more than his monthly salary adorned the walls, and it was far more palatial than his grotty little flat in Camden, about three times the size of it too. She set her bags down, shedding her outer exterior as she watched him evaluating her living circumstances. If only she could tell him that the price it cost her wasn’t entirely worth it, without sounding like an entitled bitch.

She ran a hand through her hair, trying to reposition the curls the rain had started to lag down, trying to retain some of her sexual patina that had lured him in in the first place. She didn’t have to worry about his desire coolling, for once he had gotten over the shock of her flat, he walked towards her like a prowling lion. The look in his eyes made her breath quicken and her stomach twitch, a feeling that didn’t abate when he reached her, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear, his thumb grazing her jawline on the way. His blue crystal-like eyes looked into hers as she glanced from his lips and up again, trying to ignore the feel of his hand against her pulse. 

He was leaning in, his breath quick as his lips pressed to hers and she clutched his face, her lips parting to allow him to explore the inside her of mouth with his tongue, which he took great delight in, reading every curve of her teeth, her tongue, her cheek like he was charting a map he’d never known he had wanted to travel. His hand went to her waist, pulling at her, yet pushing her against the wall all at the same time. If she wanted him to stop, if she wanted to end this bizarre dance, now was the time to say it. 

“Bedroom is this way,” she said instead when he pulled away and it was only then that she realised how breathless she was, and how she was gripping his biceps. 

“Lead the way,” he said, feeling her hand take his, pulling him with her as she led him to a bedroom down the maze of hallways. 

His mouth was hot against hers as they stepped over the threshold, pushing at her blazer as she pulled his shirt from his waistband. Her hands touched on rough skin in a way that made him shiver as they shed their clothes with impressive speed. Despite it being her house, he was leading now, pushing her down onto the bed firmly, stopping to pull his trousers and boxers off, reveling in the way her eyes roamed over his physique, lingering on his cock as he advanced on her and fiddled with the top button of her trousers, unhooking it with nimble fingers. He slid the zip down painfully slow and her chest heaved at the anticipation of having him inside her. She just wished he’d get on with it.

The trousers were whipped down and discarded, his hands caressing the silk bow on her knickers, feeling the warmth of her beneath. He slid his hand down, dragging a moan from her as she bucked her hips into his hand, desperate for his touch on her skin.

“You won’t be needing these,” he murmured huskily as he slid the silk garment down her thighs and parted her legs. She was more than ready for him as he sank into her with a groan. 

She screwed her eyes up, her tongue parting her lips ever so slightly as she became totally and utterly engrossed with the way he felt. Each thrust was harder and deeper than the last and his hands were all over her, touching her in a way she couldn’t remember ever being touched before. It was like everything that had preceded this moment had evaporated and she could only think of him; the way he smelt, the way his skin felt under her hands, the way he was biting and sucking on her neck. The way he moved between her thighs. He was groaning in her ear and it was only when he muffled them against her neck, that she realised how loud her own cries were as they bounced off the walls. She was never this loud with Roger. 

She was so close, she could feel a burning inside her that she hadn’t felt in a while as he rocked her to the plateau of no return. It was like a bomb detonating inside her and she shook mercilessly when she came with an embarrassing array of weak moans and pants. He writhed above her, clutching her hand into the bedsheet, their fingers laced as he grunted into her throat when his own orgasm hit. 

She was still unable to breathe when he rolled off her, but her brain function was starting to return as her eyes widened at what she had done. She had crossed a line, so enamoured with a man who showed her just a scrap of kindness. What kind of pathetic creature did that make her? The thought threatened to engulf her as she laid in silence, their mixed fluids on her thighs, her breaths coming in short gasps. She turned to him and he was looking at her.

“Happy birthday,” he said, grinning lazily and the thought that this had been a mistake, was pushed from her mind as she leaned in, her leg twisted over his.

“Mmm, a very happy birthday,” she said as she kissed his shoulder. 

-x-x-

David was gone by the time she awoke. They’d fucked, eaten, drunk wine and then gone back to fucking and she remembered falling asleep in his arms, how it felt safe and warm from the outside world. Now she was cold. She never slept past five-am normally but when she looked at the clock it was six-forty-seven. She groaned when she rolled out of the bed, running a hand over her hair which stuck in all angles, mussed from her writhing as he had teased her to orgasm over and over using his skilled hands, his mouth, as well as his cock. As she stumbled to the bathroom and threw the shower on, she couldn’t help but feel the bite of disappointment that he had left without a word. Perhaps he didn’t feel the connection quite as much as she did. She was still married, however; that would be enough to send any man running for the door. 

She emerged from the bathroom reborn, looking less like the exhausted woman who’d gone to bed with a stranger, and more like the strong barrister settling back into her life of drudgery and routine. Coffee. She needed coffee desperately and she strode to the kitchen to complete her mission. Propped up against a cup on the counter was a piece of paper, her name scrawled across it. She frowned, feeling the spike of excitement resting in the bottom of her stomach.

_Thought it best to slip out quietly – in case you’re regretful._

_If you don’t want to see me again, then thank you for last night._

_If you do (and I really hope you do!), here’s my number,_

_D_

She read it three times, tracing the way he wrote, with her eyes and chewed her lip. Did she want to see him again? She was somewhat concerned to discover that she couldn’t imagine a world where she didn’t see him again. What had he done to her?! 

Julia waited until she was at work before she did anything about it, the note burning a hole in her pocket as she closed the glass door to her office, taking a deep breath. She picked up her landline, dialing the number she had already memorised, anxiety peeking as it rang. After the sixth ring she was sure he wouldn’t answer, and the disappointment was creeping back in. 

“Hello?” his voice was masked in uncertainty. She could hear children in the background, and she knew this was only going to get messier the longer they were tangled up in each other. But why couldn’t she have a bit of fun? How many flings had she forgiven Roger for?? (more fool her!)

“It’s me,” she said, unable to stop her mouth curving into a smile as she sank into her office chair. 

“Hello, you,” he retorted coyly, and the smile became a grin as her heart hammered against her ribs.

“I got your note...” Suddenly she realised she had no idea what she was going to say to him. All she knew was she needed to hear his voice.

“So I see, I’m glad you called.”

“Err listen, things are complicated-” she started, hearing a small sigh on his end. “But I...” she trailed off, a unique vulnerability suffocating her. “Last night was amazing and I like you.”

The second between the words being laid bare, and his reply were like an eternity, fueling her anxiety.

“Good because I really like you,” he said above the fractured sounds of children playing. 

She chewed her lip, excitement rising in her stomach. Now what?

“I’ve got the kids until tomorrow but maybe I could come and pick you up after work, we could go somewhere?” He was forward, and direct, she’d give him that. “And I promise I won’t exhaust you this time.”

She laughed at that. “You won’t hear me complaining. I could barely remember how to walk this morning.” She imagined him biting his lip at the thought of what he’d done to her. 

“Well, I don’t often have that effect on people, I must say.” She could almost hear the smile in his voice.

Before she could reply a knock came at her door. She looked to see her assistant holding the most absurd boquet of flowers she’d ever seen.

“I have to go, I'll see you tomorrow?” She was already thrilled at the prospect. 

“Tomorrow,” he confirmed hungrily, and she slipped the phone back into the cradle, beckoning her assistant in.

“Ma’am, these came for you,” the young girl was saying. She was new, still didn’t know how to address her boss and Julia rolled her eyes.

“Channel do call me Julia, or something. Ma’am is just so...formal,” she chided, and the girl’s mouth dropped open. 

“Yes ma- erm... Ms Montague,” she said, darting out the room like a startled rabbit. 

When she was alone, Julia assessed the flowers and pulled out the card with interest. When she read it however, her stomach first flipped then turned to lead.

_Deeply sorry my darling for missing your birthday. Will be making it up tomorrow evening wit_ _h_

_a night out, tomorrow. Wear your sexiest underwear and I’ll pick up at five from the office._

_Roger xx_

Fuck.


	3. Obligations & Releases

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia has an obligation to Roger, but feels a level of freedom with David.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you SO SO much for the reviews!

It was obligation that brought her to be sitting, dressed in an uncomfortably short black dress, in the middle of an uptight restaurant, sitting across from the man she had pledged her life to, and drinking expensive wine. Somewhere a violin played Strauss and the entire time she was wishing she was somewhere else. David had been annoyed (almost as much as she was) that she had to blow him off for her husband, but he couldn’t exactly argue; he knew what he was getting into with her.  

She sighed as Roger read over the menu for the millionth time. They came to Maraschino’s at least twice a month and he ordered the same thing each time, so she didn’t know why he insisted on a menu.   _Pan fried scallops for start followed by the rib-eye steak. Rare, with peppercorn sauce._ Go on, surprise me, she thought, say something different. 

“Scallops for start and the rib-eye, rare, with the pepper sauce for main,” he said predictably as he handed the menu back to the waitress. His lack of manners was not so much an embarrassment but an irritation as she wished, not for the first time, for the ground to swallow her up.  

“And for you madam?” the waitress looked at her expectantly. In truth, Julia had no idea what she wanted, everything seemed so bland and she looked down the words for the tenth time. Nothing appealed. 

“Have the foie gras and coq-au-vin, darling,” Roger said, and she looked at him over the top of her menu. 

“Fine, I'll have the foie gras and coq-au-vin, please,” she said, handing back the menu and taking a large gulp of wine when the waitress fell away from the table.  

“So, I'm sorry I missed your birthday, I know you’re angry at me,” he said, he said with a smirk. That was an understatement. “And I got you a little something to make up for it.” 

Typical Roger, buying her love. Just like each of the times he’d fucked his various secretaries and bought her a car, a Rembrandt, a Cartier watch. All of which she could have afforded on her own, yet he still insisted on buying her things to buy her forgiveness. She didn’t forgive him because he bought her things, she forgave him because she didn’t know what else she was supposed to do; everyone spent years harping on to her about getting a husband, her own mother loved Roger more than she loved her daughter. So, she did the easiest thing, she forgave him and let him back into her bed. The Cartier watch went unworn, the car parked in the street permanently, and the painting hung in his study like a weak reminder of all that he had almost lost. Not that it stopped him from chasing the next girl who came under his wing.  

She smiled tightly, leaning back in the chair as he slid over a long black box, leaving it half way between them with a smug smile, before she leaned forward and took it. She opened it to reveal a single strand of perfect pearls and diamonds. It was beautiful, there was no denying that, however she fiddled with the simple gold chain around her neck and thought of replacing it with the bicycle chain he’d presented her with. 

“It’s... beautiful. Thank you,” she said, running her thumb along the round cream balls. She wondered what he expected in return.  

“So, happy belated birthday,” he grinned, holding up his glass, clinking it against her own and she forced a smile, all the while wondering about what she could be doing instead. 

-x-x- 

He wasn’t quite tipsy by the time they got home but Roger was far too handsy in the taxi home, his hand diving between her legs, caressing her thigh and she let him. Her eyes half closed as she looked out the window and tried to imagine his hands were more calloused, more delicate. She thought of David, could almost feel him still running down her thighs. She suddenly felt a rush of warmth and a look at her husband told her he clearly thought it was for him.  

“I love how wet you are,” he said, leaning into her ear and she smiled as widely as possible. 

When they got to the flat, and he’d paid the overly patient driver, she waited for him to unlock the front door, if only he could leave her arse alone. And his mouth was against hers messily, his hands pulling at her clothes. 

“At least let me get my shoes off,” she said against his mouth, pulling away to slip her heels off before she fell over and broke her neck. Though in that moment she thought it might be preferable.  

He was pushing her towards the bedroom, and he was unzipping her dress, his hands cupping her arse as he squeezed. She let him, it was far easier to let Roger do what he liked, than try to explain why she didn’t like it, and when they were declothed, he pushed her to the bed. She wondered if she’d changed the sheets since she’d fucked someone else in them, the thought almost thrilled her as she remembered the wet-patch they’d undoubtably created.  

Roger’s hand went to his semi-hard cock and went to push into her when she put her hand out, holding him away from her 

“Really!? Aren’t you on birth control anyway?” he said, sarcastically. She stared at him, issuing a challenge. He could disobey her and be in the dog house or he could do what she demanded. “Fine.” 

He reached over to his bedside cabinet and pulled a condom out the drawer. She watched him with unemotive eyes as he slid it on and grunted when he entered her. 

He finished in a series of short groans, grunting like a pig when he rolled off her and stared at the ceiling, leaving her both empty and unsatisfied. 

“That was amazing darling,” he said breathily, and she fought the urge to punch him. 

“Mhm,” she hummed. 

“Did you finish?” he turned his head to look at her and she glared at a space on the ceiling.  _If you_ _have to_ _ask..._ she thought bitterly.  

Uh huh,” she could only say around her gritted teeth.  

He seemed satisfied and pushed himself out of the bed; she watched him go, watching as he stumbled into the en-suite, flooding the bedroom with a harsh light when he couldn’t be bothered to shut the door. She thought about finishing herself off, like she always had to, but it wouldn’t be the same. She knew what she wanted, and she was stuck.  

She turned over, her back to him, closed her eyes and pretended she couldn’t hear him dropping the used condom into the bin, or him pissing in the toilet. When he flushed, snapping the light off and climbed back in, she didn’t move, praying he would think she’d fallen asleep. He kissed her bare shoulder and settled down on his own side. They couldn’t get further apart, backs facing each other, one sexually gratified, the other thinking of how another man made her feel more alive and satisfied in one night than her husband of nine years.  

When Roger’s breathing had evened out, and she believed him to be asleep, she pulled her phone towards her. 

 _I’m sorry. Can we try again?_  

She waited a full five minutes for a response, but none came, and she returned the offending item back to the cabinet and hugged herself. 

-x-x- 

“So where exactly are we going?” she hadn’t asked for the first thirty minutes of their journey but as they extended beyond the areas of London she knew well, curiosity was piqued. 

“I thought we’d drive somewhere a little out of the city, where no one will pay any attention to us,” he replied like it made perfect sense. 

David took his eyes off the road to glance at her. She smiled when she returned her eyes to the window, watching the seamless rows of houses blending to one as she sank into the seat, comforted by his presence and the warm air pumping through the heater system. She never stopped to wonder about how she was letting a man she had met once, and had only had half a dozen conversations with, drive her to a location she had no prior knowledge of. She had not been brought up to be this reckless and yet … 

She was so in need of his hands on her, to make her his, that she’d let him drive her off the edge of the universe if he wished, as long as she could drown in his eyes. How pathetic, she chided. She was not a lovestruck teenager. When she stopped agonising on it, she saw him pulling the car into a small carpark, bringing the Nissan to halt in the furthest corner under an oak tree.  

“Come on,” he said teasingly when he was half out the car and she hadn’t even unbuckled. 

“Where are we?” she said, looking around at the small white cottage building at the far end. She pulled her coat tighter around her to ward off the chilly air as he came up beside her, hands in his jean pockets. 

“It’s a little pub I found when I first moved to London. I used to know the owner,” he said, looking at her with such a pure wonderment that she instantly relaxed.  

He held the door open for her and she was immediately assaulted by an indescribable atmosphere. It was loud, a dozen or so different conversations all vying to be heard, totally unlike the cold, formal atmosphere of Maraschino’s that she was taken aback. In the corner of the cottage pub was a large, roaring open fire that made her feel like she was walking into someone’s home.  

David moved between the people effortlessly, asking her what she wanted when he got to the bar.  

“White wine, please,” she said, over the raucous conversation on her right, about the merits of Everton versus Liverpool. He recited her order to the barman and pulled out his wallet when she placed a hand on his arm. “You don’t have to pay for mine.” 

He was already pulling out a card. “It’s fine,” he said with a smile that made her weak. She watched him pay, feeling the brewing of guilt in her stomach; she was obviously far wealthier than he. He leaned in, his mouth near her ear and murmured, “I wasn’t sure your husband would appreciate seeing some country like pub on your statement.” 

He had a point and she was annoyingly reminded that what they were doing was duplicitous as he carried their drinks to a small table, far away from the rowdier football fans. She pulled her scarf from around her neck and set it on the corner seat, sliding out of her coat before she shuffled into the seat. She watched as he pulled his jacket off, revealing a plain grey t-shirt underneath that bulged around his biceps. He was so attractive she thought her eyes might melt just from looking at him and when he smiled at her, her stomach squeezed. A distinctive tattoo twisted around his upper arm and she stared at it. She didn’t remember seeing it before. 

Julia took a sip of the wine for Dutch courage and turned to him. 

“So, how do you know the owner of this place then?” she said. 

“Former owner, Luigi. I met him years ago when I moved here with the army. I missed the rural homelife of Scotland, so I went looking for something a bit quieter. And the rest, as they say, is history.” He took a mouthful of his pint and she tilted her head thoughtfully. 

“You were in the army?” she said. “In Iraq?”  

“Afghanistan,” he corrected, wiping foam off his upper lip. She wanted to lick it off. 

“You’d hate my husband,” she said truthfully, and he frowned. 

“Why, what does Mr. Montague do?”  

She sighed, fingering the condensation on the base of her glass. 

“Mr. Penhaligon,” she said, raising her eyes to meet his, catching the flash of confusion. “I kept my maiden name at work so...” His mouth made a silent ‘ah’ shape. “And he’s a politician. Foreign secretary.” 

“Shit, he’s pretty important then...” he trailed off, eyes raised as he digested the information with a gulp of beer. 

“Yeah... to someone anyway,” she murmured, casting her eyes out across the pub, at all the patrons enjoying their lives.  

“Where does he think you are?” David said, bringing her attention back to him. 

“Out with a friend.” The mischievous glint was returning to her eyes. It wasn’t strictly a lie, she had just neglected to mention that her friend was a male. And that said male had made her come so hard she forgot her own name, during the one time they’d shagged, versus all the times Roger had not made her come. He didn’t need details.  

He nodded with a small grin, almost as if he could see inside her head. Sometimes she wished someone would read her inner thoughts.  

“Well let’s make the most of it then,” he said leaning in to touch his glass to hers. He made her weak when he looked at her like that. 

“Hmmm,” she hummed seductively as they took a sip of their respective drinks. “Did you get that in the army?”  She was pointing at his tattoo and he looked down at it. 

“Yeah, rite of passage for my unit,” he said, and she couldn’t tell if he was happy about it or not. 

“How long were you in the army?” She had turned to face him, her leg touching his and she couldn’t deny the warmth through her jeans.  

“10 years.” 

“Was it what you always wanted to do?” she had moved into full barrister mode and couldn’t stop peppering him with questions. If he minded, he didn’t show it. Instead he gave a coy smile. 

“You’ll probably laugh, but when I was in school, I wanted to be a doctor,” he said, and she frowned curiously. 

“I’m not laughing, what happened?”  

“I couldn’t get experience, so I never bothered applying,” he sounded bitter for a moment before he let it roll off him. 

“What about you? Why did you become a barrister?” he grinned as he leaned in, his arm snaking along the back of the loveseat, relaxing into it. 

She let out a dry laugh. “I don’t really know. My father is one, I have no siblings, so it fell on me to follow in his footsteps, I guess. Plus, I love arguing, especially when I win.” 

He savoured the small smile she threw him. 

“I won’t lie, there’s something really sexy about that,” he purred, and she laughed before falling silent as he touched her hair, curling it around his finger. His forefinger ghosted along the back of her neck, before sliding down her throat, under her blouse and along the ridge of her collarbone. She let out a small sigh, her eyes creeping closed.  

He leaned in, cupping her face as he kissed her passionately, tenderly, with enough force to make her forget everything she’d ever known as his tongue carved out a space in her mouth just for him. He nipped at her lower lip when he pulled away. 

“Come back to mine,” he murmured and her eyes fluttered open to meet his, only millimetres apart. Her mouth opened, regret across her face. “Tell Mr Penhaligon that your friend is too drunk to go home alone.” 

She pulled back, biting her lip, her mind whirring. He was so afraid she’d say no that he’d steeled himself for it, but she leaned back in, running her tongue along his lip, one hand on his neck, the other on his thigh where she could already feel the stirrings of his desire. 

“Okay then,” she said with a small smile when she pulled away. 


	4. Sexual Appetites

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Basically just David and Julia engaging in lots of sex.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> DT to Lavender on da moov  
> P.S - this might be the last update for a little while so I can catch up with other ones and other stuff.  
> Thank you so so much for the comments

She leaned against the head rest as the small car meandered down dark roads, the wine warming her stomach as she watched him concentrate intently on the small triangle of area that the headlights illuminated. She turned to look at him, his eyes concentrating so intently on the road that he almost didn’t notice that she was unbuttoning her jeans, sliding her hand beneath her waistband and arching her back when she reached her target. 

She moaned audibly, mostly for his benefit and he finally turned to glance at her, his eyes widening as he almost crashed the car. 

“You are gonna be the death of me,” he teased, and a small salacious smile spread across her lips. 

He bit his lips as she continued her seductive assault on herself, breaths in pants and sighs, as he drove for another five minutes. Unable to take it any longer, he swerved the car into a small layby, overcast by large oaktrees. 

“What are you doing?” she said, her hand still beneath her underwear. He didn’t reply, just turned to her and prised her hand away from herself, his intense eyes burning into hers. 

He hooked his thumbs into the waistband on her hips and began to pull down, allowing her to lift her arse off the seat to allow their fast removal. He left her knickers and leaned in to kiss her as her mind whirred in anticipation of what he was going to do to her. His hand cupped her, thumb swiping across the bundle of nerves beneath until she jerked her hips, urging him to delve inside.

He waited a full five seconds, teasing over and over, before he slipped under the barrier, her head going back, eyes closed as he curled himself inside her.

“God, I want you to come so hard,” he murmured in her ear and the hunger of it nearly had the desired effect as he stroked her inner walls, his face never further than an inch away from hers, even as she squirmed and twisted in the seat the closer she got. 

Her voice, weak and breathless, broke off into a series of pants, and moans that had his erection pressing against his trousers with the ache of need. He didn’t however break the speed at which he was pushing her to climax and she gripped his shoulder when she writhed a foot off the seat, their bodies still connected and the groan on her lips only serving to heighten his desire. When she flopped back into the seat, completely undone, he pulled out, watching her flushed face slowly begin to return to her normal complexion, a small smile touching his lips. He only wished he could get into a position to taste her, but the handbrake and gearstick proved to be troublesome. 

She was looking at him through hooded eyes when he was back firmly behind the wheel, her glance daring, and challenging. 

“Put your seat back,” she said, voice still husky. His brows knitted together as he leant beneath his seat, pushing it back as far as it would go.

“What are you-” he was saying when she was maneuvering herself over the middle of the car, coming to rest in his lap, her thighs either side of his, her hands on his shoulders.

“Hi,” she breathed with a grin and leaned in to kiss his smile. His hands went to her thighs, fingertips light on her skin.

Her hair was light on his face, the scent of lavender strong and intoxicating in his nose, his arousal straining against his trousers, between her legs. She reached down, pressing a kiss to the side of his mouth as her hands rested on his groin, teasing the zip down and reaching between the folds. 

He groaned when her hand enclosed on him, freeing him with a satisfied hum. She had full control now as she pushed aside her sodden knickers and guided him into her with a low sigh. David’s chest heaved as Julia rose up, sliding back down onto him, taking everything from him. Her mouth sought his, his hands holding her face to him, fingertips tangled in hair as he groaned into her mouth. She couldn’t breathe, so inebriated on him as she rose up and down like she was riding a horse. Which in effect she kind of was, she mused with a smirk as he filled her so entirely that from this angle it was a whole new experience. 

She rocked gently towards him, gripping his shoulders fiercely, lest she begin to falter, unable to hold her own weight under the smouldering bonfire in the pit of her stomach. 

“God you feel so good,” she said between pants. She was almost embarrassed that she’d said it but her inhibitions had slipped once he had fingered her into oblivion already that night.

“Mmmmmm,” he seemed incapable of coherent thought as he jerked his hips to plough into her with a deepness she hadn’t expected. It brought a whimper from her and he grinned. 

His hands trailed down her arms to cup her bottom beneath her knickers. With a jolt, she realised that she quite liked it. Odd that she hated Roger touching her that way. He was kneading, caressing, holding her into his groin, pushing her as she moved on her own steam, rocking and grinding against him, faster and faster as she began to lose pace, her fist closing around his jacket lapel as she trembled her way to the finish line. He reached up to kiss her and her lips went slack against his as her orgasm hit her with frightening speed and power, leaving her crying into his mouth. 

She carried on rocking, determined to bring him to ruin, which she did, as a handful of thrusts had him clutching her, keeping her tight against his groin as he spilled into her with a drawn-out groan that had her biting her lip. He hugged her and she rested her head on his shoulder.

-x-x-

David chewed the inside of his cheek, when he opened his flat door, fully aware it was a bedsit compared to her palatial mansion flat, but she made no comment when he flicked the lights on, throwing the modest two bed into an orange light. She looked around at the walls, childlike paintings littered the walls, intercut with the odd candid portrait. He shook his coat off, tossing it onto the sofa arm.    
   
“I haven’t been here that long, so...” he fiddled with the keys before he tossed them onto the small dining room table that stood precariously in the middle of the kitchen. She turned to him, her mouth opened before he beat her to it. “Do you want a drink?” 

“Sure,” she said, watching as he retreated into what she presumed was the kitchen. She followed, stopping to slip her heels off, her eyes taking in the chaotic home he had made for himself. She watched his back as he lingered at the fridge.

“Do you want... well I only have orange juice and tea actually...” he smiled lopsidedly, apologetic and she moved in, her hand trailing over his table, her eyes low.

“Tea sounds great, milk no sugar, please,” she said, watching as he flicked the kettle on. It rattled and gurgled, filling the air with a heavy tension that felt electric, like they couldn’t be in the same room without a fire blossoming between them. 

She was at his side by the time the kettle was spewing hot steam out and clicking off. Her hand went to his back, trailing along the thin t-shirt and touching upon the nape of his neck. He almost shivered when her short fingernails grazed his hair and he wanted to lift her onto the counter and press his mouth to hers. He busied himself with squeezing teabags and handed her a hot mug with an embarrassingly sickly-sweet picture of a kitten on it. She held it up, looking bemused at it before she took a sip of the hot liquid. His own mug was of some football team he didn’t support. Another sign of how chaotic and shambolic his life had become since Vicky had filed for divorce.

David held his arm out, beckoning her to go back through to the small living room where she sank onto the sofa; another hand me down from his mother to get him back on his feet. It was however, pretty comfortable, and he collapsed into it beside Julia, unable to see the way she watched his every move across the top of her mug. 

“You have children.” she suddenly said. He turned to her, eyes widening as he registered her inquisitive tone.

“Yeah, Charlie and Ella,” he said, smiling as he thought of the two reasons for his existence. 

“How old are they?” 

“Charlie’s six and Ella’s nine.” He’d never considered that perhaps she might have been put off a man with two young kids. Until that moment and he searched her face for signs that she was experiencing a ‘fight or flight’ response. There was nothing but pure curiosity. “Do you have kids?” 

He sipped at his tea, something to do with his hands as he awaited her reply.

“No, Roger and I never seemed to … come to any arrangement on that,” she said wryly, looking around at his meagre lodgings. He couldn’t tell if she sounded bitter or not, but a dark look crossed her face when she realised just how much of her life she may have wasted. 

“Hmm,” he said thoughtfully, raising the cup to his mouth. The liquid never passed his lips as she leaned in, took the cup from his hands, putting them on the Ikea coffee table and closing in on him with a seductive hunger.

“Now, where’s the bedroom?” she said, her mouth mere millimetres from his, ghosting his lips. 

-x-x-

“No... she’s in the bathroom now, I don’t think-” she broke her, her voice raising an octave when David’s tongue flicked between her legs in the exact area she needed him most. She was splayed out on his bed, her phone held to her ear as she tried her best to focus on her spouse’s voice. David, however, had her legs spread, his hands warm on her thighs, his head and tongue buried in her cunt.

“I don’t understand, why you can’t just leave her?” Roger was saying in her ear but he sounded so far away, unable to hear anything above the pulsating pleasure rippling through her. 

“She’s really not well Roger! She erm...” His tongue was dipping in and out with expert precision, only ghosting her clit as she bucked her hips into him. “She … she keeps falling over...”

“Julia, I don’t see how this is your problem, what am I supposed to do for dinner?”

She bit her lip as a moan rose through her, burning to escape her lips. Her hand went to David’s hair, a mixture of pulling and grinding him into her pelvis as he seemed insistent on putting his mouth everywhere but on the one spot she wanted. He grinned against her, lapping at her, eager to please. 

“I’m sure you can figure it out,” she said, working hard to keep her voice level, calm despite the shaking in her legs, her stomach, the explosion the Scottish hulk between her legs was detonating. 

“I don’t understand why-” the rest of his tirade was eaten up when David moved up over her, his hand replacing his mouth, spreading her wetness when he swiped at her clit, dragging from her, a satisfying breathy sigh that had her turning her head away from the phone, lest Roger hear. 

“For god’s sake Roger, just deal with it!” she said sharper than intended as David sank several fingers into her, bringing bright lights sparkling in front of her eyes as he curled himself inside her, playing her insides like the most expert violinist in the world. It brought her to very edge of everything and he leaned into her ear.

“Not yet,” he whispered, when he felt her squeezing around him. He stopped moving, delighting in teasing and controlling her climax. He sensed she was not one to relinquish control to many people and the fact that she gave it to him was not something he wasn’t going to waste.

“Look, I really have to go, I’ll see you tomorrow,” she was saying, using every ounce of her willpower to keep her voice and breath even as she cut the call and chucked the phone somewhere onto the bedside cabinet where it landed with a crash. She figured it didn’t really matter since the screen hadn’t even been fixed yet. 

“Are you all mine now?” he said lustfully. He didn’t let her answer, resuming the unsustainable pace of his fingers moving between her legs, leaving her clenching and arching her hips as the fire ripped through her, singing every inch of her nerves. “Not yet.”

His words cooled the fire and she let out a whimper, the agony of her denied orgasm painted across her face like one of her Picasso’s. He held her on the edge, nibbling on her earlobe before he decided to end her torture.

“Come,” he murmured. And she did, loudly. She writhed as the pleasure poured through her like liquid gold, her loud moans petering to meek cries as he worked her through the climax. 

He pulled her towards him, his arm wrapping around her waist as he leant his forehead against hers, a small kiss on her nose as her eyes closed. It might be the most at peace she had ever felt.


	5. When Blue Become Green

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Facesitting, ballrooms and jealousy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all the reviews thus far!

He laid back on the pillows, head propped up by his arm, listening to the running water coming from the bathroom. His eyes were closed as the sound washed over him like a rippling wave, carrying him further and further into a drowsy world where everything was perfect. Then the water stopped, and his eyes opened, watching as her head and bare shoulder came around the doorframe, hair wet and water droplets glistening on her skin like diamonds. She held up a tub of something pink.

“Do you mind if I use this?” she said, and David frowned.

“What is it?” he said, craning his neck to see.

She turned it around to read the label. 

“It’s some of kind of body butter,” she said, and he shrugged. He figured he must have swiped it up when he was clearing his things out of the bathroom.

“Sure,” he only said and when she darted back into the bathroom, he reclined back on the bed.

When she came out again, she strolled into his bedroom in just her bra and knickers, a delightful pale pink satin set that had his groin burning as he bit his lip. She lifted a leg to the bed so he could see where the material rested against her pussy in a way that he wished he could. He watched her methodically unscrew the pink pot, dipping three of her fingers into the white cream and spreading it along her long calf, massaging her skin with delicate circular motions. His pulse quickened when she reached her svelte thigh, rubbing over it in a way he was sure was designed to tease him. 

Julia worked the cream in until the room was filled with a light lavender scent and dropped her leg to the floor, lifting her other leg to perch on the bed when he moved towards her, taking the pot from her hands.

“Let me,” he smirked, and she raised an eyebrow to him, challengingly.

He dipped his fingers into the cream, smoothing it between his palms, eyes fixed on hers as she tilted her head. He ran his hands over her, working the cold liquid into her warm skin. She shuddered and he wondered if it was the coolness of the cream, or the feel of his fingertips so close to her kneecap. He worked into her thigh, applying a firm pressure as he got closer and closer to the top, eyes never leaving her face, feeling rather than seeing, the trembling of her body beneath his touch. He grinned when he swiped against the most vulnerable part of her, two fingers just flicking across where her clit was safely snuggled under the silk knickers. Her breath spiked, a shiver running down her spine as he scooted closer until his face was level with the bow on her lingerie, his eyes no longer looking up at her as he ran his tongue along the carriage of the knickers, tasting the change in temperature, the wetness of her, deducing it from desire rather than the shower. 

David felt his cock throb when he breathed in her scent, moving his mouth to her inner thigh, grazing his teeth across her skin, biting down and soothing the red marks he left with his kisses. He sucked on her thigh, the taste of lavender thick on his tongue. She let out a moan as his tongue touched on the soft area her hip met her leg, burying his nose in her before he pulled back entirely, his eyes searching out hers as her leg slid to the ground.

“What time do you have to be at work?” he said, taking her hand in his. She looked down at him, swaying slightly from the intoxication of his presence. 

“Supposed to be nine, but I don’t have any meetings until ten thirty,” she said, watching as he turned his head to look at the clock. Seven forty-five. 

“Plenty of time then,” he grinned, leaning forward to hook his fingers around her knickers.

“David, I’ve just showered,” she said, half amused. He slid them down slowly, letting them fall to her ankles. 

“And we have plenty of time for another one,” he said, moving back onto the bed, pulling her with him.

“Mmm,” she hummed seductively as she fell onto him, hands splayed out on his chest. She straddled him, leaning down to kiss him but he held her back. His eyes glinted with mischief as he crawled out from beneath her.

“No, no,” he whispered, eyes glinting as she frowned. “Face the wall, spread your knees.”

She shuffled closer to the headboard, confused but trusting as she felt the tension grow warm between her legs. She felt him at her back, hands on her shoulders before he was shifting onto his back.

“Lift up,” he said quietly and obeyed, letting him place his head beneath her. 

She let out a whimper when she felt his tongue on her, inside her. 

“Oh god,” she said, voice quivering just as much as her body in a way that had her reaching for the top of the headboard to hold herself up.

He grinned, humming against her in a way that sent shockwaves up her spine, a cry tumbling from her lips. He lapped at her, nibbling on her clit, dipping his tongue in and out, tasting her in the most glorious way possible that had her wetter and wetter with each swipe he took. He reached up to hold her thighs, kneading her arse cheeks as he held her cunt flush against him even when the pressure of his mouth was too much to bear and she tried to lift off him, her grip on the headboard so tight, her knuckles went white.

“Ahh,” she moaned as he applied a heavier pressure, lapping, nibbling, and sucking her towards orgasm and by the way he felt her knees quivering, her hips bucking, and the clenching of her muscles, he knew she was about to come. 

She bore down on him so hard he thought he might suffocate. Not that he minded because the noises she made were such a carnal turn on, he felt his erection growing harder with every moan, every cry that fell from her. And finally, she exploded in his mouth with a strangled groan. He ran his tongue the entire length of her before she rolled off him collapsing into a heap at his side, her breath ragged and uneven. 

-x-x-

She watched herself in the dressing room mirror, watched Roger messing with his belt in the background of the bedroom. She sighed as she wrapped a diamond bracelet around her wrist, holding up earrings to match, turning her head side to side to see the dangling drop diamonds before securing the posts in her ears. 

“Aren’t you ready yet?” Roger’s voice behind her was irritated and Julia fluffed a curl before turning to face him, a modest false smile split across her face.

“Nearly, darling,” she said, voice syrup-like and he scoffed; the true sign of a man who had suffered through many dinners being delayed due to his wife. 

She applied the mascara, curling her eyelashes with it in a way that made her eyes seem far more dramatic than normal and then she rose from the stool, grabbing a clutch bag from the counter. He was wearing a tuxedo, a bow tie expertly placed around his neck, and he actually looked quite nice for once. However, he killed the effect with his hands in his pockets, his face flush with irritation as he checked his watch for the ninetieth time.

When she rose to full height, the black silk and silk chiffon ballgown sweeping the floor, he didn’t say anything, just skulked to front door, face like a bulldog chewing a wasp and she closed her eyes for a second, a headache already beginning to thrum behind her eyes. 

“We’re going to be late! Fucking hurry up will you!” he called as she slipped her heels on, preparing herself for a party she didn’t even want to go to. 

He was out the door and down the steps before she could tell him she was coming and when she got to the front door, he was in the car already and she gritted her teeth before she approached, waiting for the driver to open the door for her and she slid in.  

The car journey would be an uncomfortable fifteen minutes as she kept her hands clenched tightly in her lap, her head inclined out the window, as she was sure he was doing the same on his side. When they had meandered through several streets, he reached over and took her hand into his.

“Sorry I was a bore, you really look beautiful, darling,” he said, and she turned her head to look at him, her mouth set to argue but she only smiled instead.

 When the car pulled to the curb of the huge ballroom, Roger let go of her hand, and pulled on his shirt, resetting the position of his cufflinks before he stepped from the car

As she approached her husband, she saw HIM. He was standing behind the ambassador he had been tasked with protecting, his eyes immediately fixing on hers. Her heart pounded, her stomach burning with desire. The ambassador stepped forward, clapping hands on Roger’s back and the exchange didn’t look entirely friendly, more a strained comradery that often comes from being thrust together. 

“Sir, we really should be moving inside,” David said to his principal and Julia shivered involuntarily as the sound of his voice slid over her like a smooth wave. 

Roger had her back in his focus, his hand on her arm and she looked from David to the man she was legally tied to, taking her lead from the latter as he slipped his hand into hers and they trotted up the steps of the extravagant building. She could feel David’s eyes on her, the thought alone was thrilling, if not a little disconcerting. He was however, the epitome of professional on the outside, at least.

But his mask started to drop the more he had to stand on the sidelines watching her with Roger, whirling her around the ball and her laughter coming far more naturally with him than the past few months. Though she perhaps had to attribute that in part to the alcohol flooding her blood. David was a blur on the sidelines, becoming blurrier with each spin around the floor, and when she leant in, pressing her mouth against Roger’s, she could feel his blue pools burning into her back. 

“You’re very coquettish tonight, darling,” Roger murmured against her mouth, his hands pawing at her hips. He couldn’t know that when she pulled away, it wasn’t his grey eyes she saw, rather the most brilliant blue instead. They took her breath away for just a second before she recovered herself.

“Mmm, I need the loo,” she pulled herself free from his embrace and strode across the dancefloor away from him before he could protest. 

David watched her with narrowed eyes, his ever-observant glance moving over the room, looking for the ambassador whom he was protecting, finding him deep in conversation and so he did something he knew broke all the rules. He unfolded her arms and followed her, taking large strides to reach her before she disappeared out of sight.

“Hey!” he hissed when they were the only ones in the corridor, and she turned abruptly to face him.


	6. Double Dip

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Follows on from the last chapter at the ball, deals with some jealous David, and moves into a life-changing decision for Julia.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the reviews :)  
> Y'all keep me going!

“Davi-” she said, brows knitting together as he approached her with purpose, his stance tense.

“Enjoying yourself?” he said accusatorily, and she felt a spike of anger. 

“Yes,” she only said. It was a half-truth. He frowned, feeling the stirrings of jealousy erupting in his stomach.

“Really? You enjoy being with HIM?” he said, aware he was acting like a petulant child, when he flung his arm in the general direction of the ballroom. 

“David, don’t-” She rolled her eyes. A lightheadedness made her put her hand on the wall to steady herself.

“You gonna fuck him later, aye?” he hissed. 

He was painfully aware that he had no right to act like that, to feel like seeing her with him felt like she was cheating on him. It stung, every time HE made her laugh, HE touched her. And David felt an unbearable tightness all over his body that he couldn’t shake.

“For god’s sake,” she muttered, turning away from him, her hand over her face. 

He hated it. Hated the turmoil, hated the accusatory anger flooding through him which was now ruining whatever connection they had. When she returned her eyes to his face, he looked lost, like he was drowning in overwhelming emotion. 

“David,” she said softly. She hated hurting him, but she couldn’t understand what he expected; he knew she was married, he knew this wouldn’t be like other relationships. And yet she wished it was. Clearly, he did too.

“You can’t enjoy being with him, I’ve seen the way you look at him,” he said, eyes pained and voice breaking. He was begging her; she could hear it in the way he spoke, the way he moved closer to her, face close to hers. Begging her to tell him that it was only him she wanted, could ever want.

“David...” she said, pain thudding through her as she opened her mouth to speak, her hand hovering near his face.

There were screams coming from the other side of the door and someone dressed just like him, came barreling through the door, an earpiece flapping around his ear. The couple broke dramatically apart, Julia turning her face away from the intruder to cover her irritation.

“Skip! We’ve got a situation!” David’s colleague panted, pointing furiously behind him. 

Immediately David returned to professional mode, heart hammering with a steady flow of adrenaline as he left her without a further thought and ran into the ballroom where the music had stopped, a circle of people leaving a hollow space on the floor where two burly men held down what David could only describe as a scrawny student, a placard lying three foot away from him.

“Where the fuck were you?” one of the men said, their face contorted in anger, irritation at his lack of professional diligence.

“I was in the toilet,” David said quickly, his eyes only briefly darting over to the door from which she stepped around, slinking back into the room like a blending panther. Not camouflaged enough for Roger’s eagle eyes however, which narrowed when he watched her. And then David was swallowed up by his job, his requirement to keep his principal safe and she went back to her husband’s side, a growing repulsion in her stomach. 

-x-x-

“You’re drunk,” Julia said waspishly, her mood befouled by the entire evening turning to shit. Roger came at her again, hands pawing at her waist, mouth reaching for hers, but she pushed him back. He hadn’t even given her five minutes to change out of this bloody cocktail dress.

He narrowed his eyes, squaring his shoulders and puffing his chest out like a peacock. She would have laughed if she didn’t wish he’d drop dead. 

“Fine, I'm going to the club if you’re going to be a frigid bitch,” he swiped a hand over his face, pulling at his undone bow-tie. He really was a disgraceful drunk.

She rolled her eyes as he stumbled to the front door, pulling at his jacket in what she could only assume, was a feeble gesture to make himself look more respectable.

“Fuck off,” she muttered as he slammed the door and she was left in the cold flat, alone. Somehow it seemed she felt alone most of the time now. It was not a feeling she relished. 

She stalked into the kitchen, dragging the bottle of red off the counter and poured more than a generous helping into a glass, cradling it against her chest before she took a large gulp. When she was halfway to her second mouthful, the knocking at the door held the glass away from her mouth. She looked at it accusingly.

“For fuck’s sake Roger,” she growled as she replaced the glass on the marble with more force than necessary and crossed the relatively short space between the open-plan kitchen and the front door. She reached out to tear it open, rage in her blood. “I thought I told you to fuck-”

She faltered when she came face to face with blue eyes, a fading smile and a face that made her go weak. His hand slid down from where it was on the door frame and she searched his expression for answers. Beneath his leather jacket she could see the remnants of his professional attire.

“David you can’t be here. My husband-” she said, dismissive and practical though the other half of her wanted to drag him in, have him set alight to her loneliness.

“I waited until he left,” he said, hooking his thumb behind him and when she frowned, he wondered if he now sounded like too much of a stalker. She considered him before stepping aside, casting her eyes beyond him at her neighbour’s door as she shut her own behind him. “I wanted to apologise … for the way I acted earlier.”

She watched him, always the ever-observant barrister. Somehow, unless he was touching her, she could never seem to switch off.

“It’s just...” he stopped, eyes darting from all the expensive belongings that adorned the room. She waited, built on patience. He finally rested his eyes on her, and she felt something stir in the pit of her stomach. Something she didn’t think she’d ever felt until he’d crashed into her life. “I knew... when we started this that it wouldn’t be simple, that it’d be casual, and I think I was okay with that but … for me it’s not just sex anymore... I don’t think it ever was and if it’s not that way for you too then maybe this should be it.”

She felt the words like a series of blows, one after the other and she thought of him walking out her door and never returning. Julia Montague did not often feel fear, much less exhibit it, but she was afraid now.

“It’s not,” she blurted, and he stared at her. 

“What?” 

“It’s not about … just sex, for me,” she said, clearing her throat when her voice threatened to fail her. He watched her breath quicken as he moved in closer, an overwhelming cacophony of emotions buzzing through his body, threatening to break the skin of this carefully constructed tomb he had created for himself. The one she had split right open. “I think my marriage is falling apart.”

“I can’t even pretend to be sorry about that...” he said, his face mere inches from hers and she laughed once before she closed the gap, pressing her mouth to his before she let him find his feet. 

David’s hand went to her face, holding her cheek and tangling in her hair as he stole the very breath from her lungs. She moaned into his mouth as his other hand trailed up her back, resting on the zip. Then, like his tongue exploring the inside of her cheek, he pulled it down, one inch at a time until he could feel her bare skin beneath his hands. Suddenly she didn’t feel so lonely anymore as he slid one strap off her shoulder, breaking their oral connection to press a soft kiss on the spot where her collarbone met her shoulder and she breathed out, feeling a weakness spreading in her legs. His slightly calloused finger tips grazed over her lower back and she shivered as he focused on the other strap. 

The dress fell to the floor with a ‘flmpf’ and he looked over her, in just her lingerie, he felt an insatiable desire to make her his for eternity. He bypassed her mouth and held her face as he kissed her neck, nipping at her earlobe as his thumb pressed against her pulse on the other side. She regained her strength and began pushing at his jacket. He pulled away to rip it off, an urgent need for his naked body to be pressed against hers. His shirt was next, discarded along the floor in a trail of clothing and reduced inhibitions. When his trousers were gone, and they were halfway towards her bedroom, he swept her effortlessly into his arms and she wrapped her legs and arms around him, his fingers stroking her spine with such a delicate touch she felt herself curling undone before he’d even penetrated her yet.

He lowered her to the bed gently, towering over her with a dark hunger burning through him. He was already hard as a rock, but he wasn’t about to give into wanton desire just yet. He looked at her, hair spread across the pillow like a halo, her eyes glittering, her thighs slick with want and her chest rising quickly before she pulled him down on top of her. He let himself kiss her for just a few moments before he broke away to kiss her throat, feeling her moan vibrate through his mouth. He slipped down to her collarbone, pressing butterfly kisses across her skin as he neared the valley between her breasts. 

Julia writhed as he kissed her all the way across her stomach and stopped at her thighs, biting her through her knickers in a way that had her arching her hips towards him. But he wasn’t going to play ball. He grinned as he bit into the soft flesh of her thigh and she let out a small cry mixed with a sigh that had him chuckling against her skin. He kissed the mark he left, and moved his attention back to her core, touching her in the areas he knew were the most sensitive, without applying enough pressure to provide anything other than to have her thrust into him. He looked up at her and saw her eyes were pointed up at the ceiling, one her of her hands above her head, the other gripping one of the headboard poles with a fist of white knuckles. He bit his lip, the yearning to have her had overcome his want for teasing and he slipped her knickers over her thighs as he shed his boxes and crawled between her legs, which by instinct wrapped around his waist. David ran his cock up the length of her before he slid into her, bucking his hips as he felt her inner walls tensing around him.

“Uhh,” he groaned as he leaned into her mouth, their lips meeting for a soft exchange. It was the most tender a man had ever been with her and she wanted to imprint the memory on her brain forever as he laced his fingers with her hand, holding it above her head as his mouth kiss her lips, her neck, her throat. All the while he drove into her with an impressively well measured pace that had her begging for more but also panting through the pleasure that threatened to tear her apart. Her breath was so fast and torturous in his ear that he increased the pace just to push her nearer to the edge lest he came before her. 

When her pants became moans that began escalating, echoing around the room, he knew she was close, he screwed his eyes shut and buried his face in her neck, groaning as his orgasm built to uncontrollable levels. Her freehand came to the back of his neck, her short nails raked over his hair, tangling themselves in when she arched her back, coming just before him, with a loud half-cry, half moan that she knew she should be embarrassed by, but she could only focus on the way her legs were shaking around him, her body convulsing and the way she felt him releasing inside her. She could hear him through the ether, grunting as the postcoital exhaustion swept over him and he sagged against her. She was not a prude, she was a sexualised woman who had had a reasonable share of lovers in her life before she’d gotten married, but she couldn’t remember any of them ever making her feel the way he did. When he released her hand, her fingers went to his back, flickering over the scarred skin that she knew was no longer painful or sensitive. It always reminded her that she was lucky he was there with her.

When David finally lifted his head from her neck, he propped himself up by his elbow and pushed the hair back from her forehead, his eyes gazing intensely down at her. It hadn’t escaped Julia’s notice that he was still inside her and she angled her hips to sustain the intense connection it provided her with. He obliged her, enjoying the warm feeling of being so far inside her that he couldn’t be sure where she ended, and he began. She watched him, his lips twitching as if he wanted to say something before he changed his mind. 

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he said instead, leaning down to kiss her, caressing her cheek so softly she almost wanted to cry. She couldn’t remember Roger ever being this attentive. 

“You’re not so bad yourself,” she said huskily against his lips and he groaned playfully.

“And now you’ve ruined it,” he laughed gently, drawing a giggle from her as she covered her face. He reveled feeling her body moving beneath him in joy. Her laughter was almost louder than her moaning and he leaned his forehead against hers. It all felt so painfully domestic that she wanted to stay like this forever. 

But she frowned when he pulled away, his face turning stony

“I suppose I better go, don’t want to be here when Mr Penhaligon comes back,” he said ruefully but she shook her head.

“Stay,” she said mirthfully, and it was his turn to frown.

“Julia-” he was saying, the voice of reason breaking through. He pulled out of her and made to dismount her, but she caught his wrist.

“Stay,” it was much softer, almost pleading and he paused. “He’ll go to work from the club.”

He considered what she said, his face breaking into a cheeky grin as he leaned back in.

“Well in that case, Ms Montague,” he murmured playfully against her mouth. She gasped inwards when he reached a hand down to behind her legs, dragging across her cunt without breaking eye contact. 

-x-x-

The water cascaded down on his body, warming his skin as his hand curved around her pubic bone, fingers curled inside her, stroking along the one spot he knew would bring her to the brink of ruin beneath his touch. She pressed her back into him pushing herself off the glass wall of the shower as the pleasure pulsed through her and she was glad for the stream of water drowning out the pathetically pitiful sounds of her moans. 

“Eughf,” she moaned as he pressed her flat against the shower wall, his chest warm against her back. His mouth hot by her ear. 

“Take it easy,” he said quietly, salaciously as he felt her legs buckling under the pressure of his hand. 

“I can’t-” she panted, her mind literally melting inside her skull. 

Until he stopped, pulling his hand from her and turning her to face him. He lifted his middle finger to his lips, dipping it into his mouth as he tasted her on his skin, his eyes never leaving hers. Her chest heaved quickly as he leaned in, catching her lips with his and lifted her leg where she tangled it around his waist. He rubbed against her, and she whimpered when he pushed into her with such lust and longing, she thought she’d perish from the weight of it. He held her against the wall, slowly moving inside her as his lips dropped to her ear.

“See, we got plenty of time,” he teased, kissing her neck as he pushed in slowly but so deeply her eyes rolled into the back of her head. 

“You know I have meetings at nine,” she panted as her arm snaked so tight around his neck, he thought she might break his neck. If he had to go anyway, slow suffocation by a beautiful woman while being buried deep inside her, ranked fairly highly, he mused. 

He didn’t let her govern the pace, slowing down so that she let out a grunt of frustration. She couldn’t deny it felt so good and she rested her head back on the glass, her eyes raised to the ceiling as undeniable ecstasy began to pool in her stomach, in her groin. He was spilling into her, biting his lip so hard he tasted blood, as his climax tore through him. He didn’t stop thrusting into her, determined to bring her to the end, sucking on her neck. She felt the explosion before she could hear the sound she made which bounced acoustically around the glass box until it was in stereo and she was clutching at him as her world erupted in fire. He grinned when he kissed her throat, enjoying the way she clenched around him as her gasps tapered to ragged breaths and she stroked the back of his head. 

“Well that was certainly a way I would like to wake up every-day,” she said when she could finally speak again.

“Mmmmm,” he purred with a smirk as he kissed her cheek. 

-x-x-

She could still feel him on her as she strolled into her office building that morning and it was not an unpleasant feeling. On the contrary, she wore him like a comfort blanket, a diamond brooch to show off. And when she strolled into her colleague’s office, she worked hard to dowse the joy on her face.

“Julia, what can I do for you?” the woman behind the desk said as she lifted her blonde head up from the cases before her. 

“Belinda, I need to talk to you, friend to friend,” Julia said, straightening her blazer.

“Okay,” the other woman frowned, indicating the former to take a seat, which she did, crossing her legs and clenching her hands in her lap. “So, Jules, what’s the situation?”

“I need to talk to you about getting a divorce,” Julia said, meeting her friend’s glance with steeled determination. Her friend, having known Roger, sat back in silence, her mouth wide.


	7. Secrets, Lies and Revelations

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Julia continues her affair with David, whereas things with her divorce come to an unexpected (or not) head.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Firstly-thank you all for not giving up on this, and on me. Thank you for all the reviews on my last few stories that I've posted, and thank you for continuining to read (I hope :D)

The flat was dark. No doubt Roger had retired to bed early. This had become their routine for the past month or so, though he hadn’t noticed the change in them; work late until she was sure he’d be out or asleep to avoid having to talk to him, or god forbid let him touch her. She was certainly running out of excuses not to let him fuck her, finding every excuse to be outside the house and letting David fuck her. 

This whole situation was a mess!

Julia peeled her coat off, hanging on the coat rack before running a hand through her hair, chestnut tresses now hanging in limp waves, weighed down by the day's events. She blew out a breath as she trudged to the kitchen, stopping half way there to slip off her heels and drop the various bags she was carrying. Her phone buzzed in her pocket as she waited absent-mindedly for the kettle to boil. She wasn’t surprised to see the message from David; their contact had been constant since they’d met, and a smile tugged at her mouth as her eyes flickered over his words.  What had started as simple flirting, and nude photos had developed into something else... something deeper than just tenacious sexual attraction and lust. She read over his light words more than once before delivering a response both fitting for her, but also satisfying for him. The now fixed phone nearly fell from her hand when light flooded the hallway.

“You’re home late,” a voice, thick with distrust, echoed through her head.

“I … erm, I was working. I thought you’d be out,” she said dismissively, turning away from his piercing glare, and striding into the kitchen. She flicked the switch and listened to his footsteps hurrying in behind her. Clearly, he wanted to have conversation, something she was far from interested in engaging with. She tossed her phone onto the expensive marbled breakfast bar and made it to the fridge before his interrogation began.

“You’ve been working late a lot,” Roger said, narrowing his pig eyes to evaluate her as she poured herself wine.

“Yeah... well we have a big case on right now, that’s going to court-” she started, taking a large sip from her glass, sliding the bottle back into the fridge without offering it to him.

“We were supposed to have dinner at the club tonight, remember?” he said, folding his arms. She turned and looked at him; he was still in his suit, top button undone but otherwise the immaculate image she saw many times on television daily. 

She frowned. Out of the all the things she had going on, she remembered this supposed dinner arrangement, the least and he threw his arms up with a scoff.

“I forgot,” Julia said with a half-hearted shrug and moved to her phone when it vibrated against the cold hard stone. 

“You made me look like a fool,” he said coldly, and she rolled her eyes. 

“Really, darling, sometimes I think you do that all by yourself.”

“I know you think I’m a fucking joke sometimes Julia-” he snarled, crossing the room quickly, face close to hers. She resisted the urge to flinch almost entirely; she knew he would never strike her, but her heart-rate increased, her pulse thudding violently against her neck. She was not afraid of him, except in that moment his eyes were darker than she’d ever seen them.

“Can we just go to  bed?  It’s nearly midnight for Christ's-” she started and when he cut her off, it made her jump.

“You knew how important this was! For my career!” he  snapped  and her mind fluttered with ideas on how to end this night quickly. Her head started to  throb  and she did her best to seem contrite but it only seem to incense him further. “I know you think I’m a laughing stock-”

“I don’t, at all,” she said as he ground his teeth. God he was repulsive from his piggy eyes down to his slimy mouth, his pencil dick and everything  in - between . She never found him so disgusting before... until she’d met someone who showed her a different world. “Let’s just go to bed, I’m sorry I missed your thing-”

“My thing?” he said plainly ,  and she sighed. This evening was never going to end unless she did something. So ,  Julia did the only thing she knew worked on Roger and she leaned forward and kissed him, hot and passionately as she imagined different lips touching hers and tried not to gag when his tongue slid into her mouth.

“Let’s not fight darling,” she said sweetly, despite the nausea bubbling in her stomach and when she pulled away, the taste of him still very much lingered upon her tongue. 

David Budd, David Budd, David Budd, she chanted in her head, hoping to replace this leathery politician’s face with that of her beautiful lover. But no such luck and by the time he had gotten her to the bed, he’d begun taking his anger out on her in different ways; Roger pushed her to the bed, roughly turning her around when she fell on her back, so she could only look down at the pillow. There was no romance as he ripped down her trousers and parted her legs; his sole purpose was to use  her  but when he yanked on her hair, she gasped in a way that nothing to do with pleasure. As he pounded away at her, fucking her hard with no consideration for her experience, Julia glared into the pillows, there was no man on earth she hated more than him in that moment and she screwed her face up as he carried on, grunting his way until he was spilling into her with an animalistic noise she’d heard him make several times before. It was the first time she’d let him come inside her in so long that she felt physically sick to feel his essence oozing between her thighs.

She let it rest for a minute, listening to his heavy breaths as he regained control of his faculties, before she stood up.

“Where are you going?” he said as she got to the door of the en-suite.

“I need a shower,” she murmured as she crossed the threshold and slammed the door. 

When she re-emerged, cleaner and scrubbed raw, she climbed onto her side of the bed, reaching over to switch the lamp off when she saw her phone, no longer in the kitchen where she left, but sitting there like an unspoken accusation. She looked at Roger, laying on his side, lamp off and snapped her own off, shuffling down into the bed, trying to stop the cold feeling creeping up her spine.

“I’m sorry I got mad,” Roger suddenly said in the dark and her breath caught. She heard him turning and then felt his arm across her middle, his face dangerously close to hers as he whispered, “it was silly. I love you.”

She opened her mouth to reply, desperate for something to say other than to tell him she hated him and was having their divorce drawn up imminently. Instead she closed her eyes and pretended to be asleep.

-x-

“You’re distracted,” his voice cut through her thoughtful reverie. She could feel his lightly calloused fingertips running up and down the arm she had strewn across his bare chest and it brought goosebumps to her skin. His hand moved to her collarbone, ghosting along her jawline, perhaps urging her to look at him.

“Hmmm,” she only hummed, staring straight at the ceiling of some hotel he could ill afford but she could easily afford the entire building probably. 

They didn’t make  a  habit of meeting in hotels, mostly she was happy to get out of her stuffy prison-like flat and retreat to his chaotic haven. But somehow, they’d ended up here, on the west side of town in an expensive hotel that reminded her of the many times Roger had taken her away on pricey breaks to make her forget the women he’d been fucking, or each time he’d made her go to his events but never once made it to one of hers. 

“Everything okay?” David asked her and she turned her head to look at him.

“Yes. I’m just …” What? She couldn’t possibly know.

“Is it the divorce?” he said  softly ,  and she bristled. This was not what she wanted to talk about.

“Can we not?” Her meekness and reticence w ere  so unlike  her,  that even she was surprised.

“What?” he said, pulling back from her. 

“I just don’t want to rehash that same subject again,” she shrugged, noticing the way he tensed up beside her.

“I don’t think discussing it could be classed as rehashing-” he  started  and the beginnings of a headache throbbed behind Julia’s eyes.

“Can we just leave it! It’s complicated and I don’t want to keep talking about it,” she said as she rubbed a hand over her sore eyes. 

“Complicated... I mean... it is what you want. Isn’t it?” She knew if she looked at him, she would see the insecurity behind his blue eyes, the kind that made her want to roll on top of him and kiss  it  away, usually. Today however, she had no patience . 

“David, I spent ten years with the man, it’s not as simple as flicking a switch, you should know that!” she said, desperate to dig her way out of this hole she had thrown herself into. 

“I do know, yeah. I know how complicated, and messy and fucking awful divorce is, Julia! And I know what effect it’s having on my kids, but it’s a necessary evil to end two people’s unhappiness. ”

“It’s not quite that simple,” she said, voice strained, as she turned to look at him. That was a mistake for she saw the flicker of pain across his face. She wasn’t even sure why she was saying this, why she wasn’t telling him all the things he wanted to hear. 

“Isn’t it?” he said, pulling his arm from beneath her head and stretching his way out the bed. She watched him stalk to the bathroom before she sat up, pulling her bra back on and running a hand through her sex tousled hair. She heard the toilet flush and when he came back, she watched him pull his boxers on. “If you’ve changed your mind, at least just have the decency to tell me.”

His voice was low, and his head turned away from her as he pulled on a shirt, zipped up his trousers before finally casting a glance in her direction. Julia tried to speak but she couldn’t make her mouth say what she wanted. It was only after the door had slammed that she became unparalysed.

“David,” she said weakly, closing her eyes and resting her head on her drawn up knees when she realised it was too late.

-x-

“Roger, I don’t really have time for this-” Roger hardly ever came to her office and yet he was stood before her like some  unasked-for  trophy.

“No, I know you don’t, you’re very busy,” he said, an air of condescension permeating every word. She tilted her head and narrowed one eye to evaluate him.

“I don’t-” she said, turning back to her the computer. 

“Darling, play nicely, I brought you an early anniversary present.” Her eyes flickered back over his, noting the pompous look on his face. She suddenly wanted to smack that smugness off him. Instead she sat back with a heavy sigh as she watched him pull out a brown manila envelope and place it delicately on the desk before her.

“What-” she started, rolling her eyes as she took it.

“Just … open, darling,” he purred. She pulled the string of the envelope, letting a cascade of grainy photographs fall onto the desk like a waterfall. She tried to pick out some details just to work out what she was looking at.

“What is this?” she  said,  and he leaned forward on the chair, propping his chin up with his clasped hands.

"Take a closer look, dear,” he smiled, and she felt a cold spoke in the base of her spine; she did not like being out of the joke. 

She did, reluctantly, as he suggested and was sure her face had paled when she  recognised  not only herself, but David. 

“What- have you been fucking following me?” she snapped, her throat closing painfully around a stream of rising acid. 

“I know you think I'm an idiot, Julia, but I’m not that much of an idiot. I know all about your little tryst with David Budd,” he smiled sickeningly and far from being reassured by this latest development, she felt the coldness creep up her spine like a coiling snake wrapping its way around its prey. His cold grey eyes met hers, face set in a pleased smile. “I know.”


End file.
